


Precepts

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Prompt Fic, description of injuries (although nothing too graphic), railway accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4309629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes principles collide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precepts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for JWP #9: Healer's Choice: One life Watson chose not to save.  
> Warnings: Rather bleak. And absolutely no beta. This was written in a huge rush. You have been warned.

  
_**First do no harm.**_  
  
It is one of the first things I learned in my medical studies. It is part of the oath I took. It is, in many ways, one of the most fundamental lessons for a doctor, one that shapes and guides you through all the difficult choices you will have to make throughout your career. I learned it well, and I have tried to hold true to the ideal.  
  
 _ **You cannot save everyone.**_  
  
It is one of the first things I learned as a practicing doctor, and even more so in the service of Her Majesty. It is, in many ways, one of the most difficult lessons for a doctor, one that hardens and scars you from all the difficult choices you have to make throughout your career. I learned it through necessity, and I have tried not to let it haunt me.  
  
“Doctor! Doctor, help me!”  
  
The panicked, choked-out shout caught my attention somehow through the din of similar cries of pain and fear. I saw a young constable, vaguely familiar to me, lying on the shattered remnants of the railway platform. His blue eyes were wide with fear and panic, pupils blown wide with shock. One leg was clearly broken, and blood seeped through his trouser-leg high on his thigh. But seeped only, not gushed. Unless his soot-stained and torn clothing concealed other injuries, the constable would survive – if someone helped carry him away from the thick, choking smoke billowing from the wrecked train before the fumes choked him, before the fire spread, before shock turned survivable injuries into fatal ones.  
  
Holmes mumbled incoherently, reacting to the cry or to my momentary hesitation, I could not tell which. He was nearly a dead weight leaning against me, blood sheeting down his face from the blow he’d taken to his head. It had been all I could do to get him on his feet and moving from where I’d found him prone and bleeding, but I knew Holmes. If I could make him understand the situation, he would try to walk out the rest of the way on his own despite his injuries.  
  
I had the gravest doubts he could succeed in his current state, even if I could get him to realize the need. And doing so would take time that we did not have. I could feel my throat closing as I gagged on the terrible smoke. Holmes was in even worse case, gasping irregularly.  
  
I weighed all the lives in the balance, and made my choice. “I’ll be back for you,” I croaked out to the constable as strongly as I could, and kept moving, supporting Holmes at every step.  
  
I did return, or try to, but by then it was too late. Even with my handkerchief over my face, I could not get near where the constable had been; the smoke was too thick, the encroaching flames too hot.  
  
Perhaps I could have saved another life that day. Perhaps I could have saved the constable’s life, but lost Holmes in the exchange. Perhaps, if I had tried, we all three would have perished. I cannot know.  
  
I only know that I can live with my choice, though I gained another ghost to haunt me. And though Holmes has no memory of the incident, he seems to understand when I linger in our sitting-room late at night, and plays his most beautiful pieces on his violin.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted July 9, 2015


End file.
